


vanilla

by xuyue



Series: sweet crazy love [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Breathplay, F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, smell kink?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28656489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xuyue/pseuds/xuyue
Summary: it's anything but“I’m not upset that you think that of me that way,” you start slowly, your eyes meeting his. “Because I think about it too.”He shivers.“I—I think about it a lot,” you admit.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader
Series: sweet crazy love [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096952
Comments: 3
Kudos: 189





	vanilla

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted from my [tumblr](http://stelleum.tumblr.com)
> 
> Do NOT recommend or mention this on tiktok. I may be going to hell for writing this, but you’ll be going to super hell for reading this and then sharing it without my consent.

When you come home to Sendai after a month away, the last person you expect to run into at the convenience store at 2 AM is Iwaizumi Hajime.

“ _Hello_?” you call out, tilting your head as you come to stand next to him in the cold drinks section. Earbuds in and hoodie up, he doesn’t notice you until you’re leaning in right beside him and even then, it seems to take him a second to snap back to the present.

“Shit,” he mutters, yanking at the wire connected to his ears. “You scared me. What are you doing here?”

You hold out the packets of spicy corn puffs in your hand. “What does it _look_ like I’m doing here?”

“ _No_ ,” he shakes his head before pulling down his hood. “I mean, what are you doing back in town? Isn’t it the middle of the semester?”

You give him a strange look. You could ask the same of him, but in truth, you weren’t even sure _how_ his school year was going. Unlike the others, he’d been pretty low contact for the past few weeks.

“I just came back this weekend to get some clothes,” you say. “It’s getting colder and I left some sweaters here.”

He nods and turns back to the bright assortment of drinks in front of him. As you expect him to, he reaches out to grab a can of black coffee from the shelf. You don’t know why but it feels like you’re intruding, like your presence isn’t wanted on this mild autumn night.

Instead of doing something reasonable, you decide to push back.

“You know,” you begin, fingers pinching the plastic bag of your chips. “I still have your old volleyball club jacket in my room. You left it when we uh—when we came back from that trip.”

Gaze shifting to the beige tiling of the store, you can’t help but feel slightly flustered at the mention of your late summer vacation. The others had taken it in stride, not letting it affect your dynamic but Iwaizumi was a different case.

It had been gradual; an achingly slow realization that he was beginning to text you less, making excuses to get out of hanging out with you one on one, and even just letting your odd late night calls go to voicemail. Of course, he’d always sent an apology after with the excuse of studying or working out or sleeping but after the fifth or sixth time you’d just stopped trying.

So now here you were, feeling like a stranger encroaching on Iwaizumi’s late night convenience store run. But the sadness you feel is pushed aside in favour of something else, something more volatile like frustration. Like _anger_.

“I wouldn’t want to wake up your parents—”

“They’re not in town,” you snap before biting your tongue. “They’re…they’re visiting my grandparents in Kobe.” You manage to make it softer that time.

“It’ll just be me and you.”

He stares at the can of coffee like he actually gives a shit about the nutritional facts.

“Okay.”

-

The walk back to your house is silent, save the soft shuffling of a plastic bag or the quiet clanking of cans against one another. Even the wind seems to still as you make the familiar trip home.

It isn’t until you’re at your doorstep, twisting the key into your lock, that the right words finally come to you.

“Hajime,” you say, softly but firmly. An appropriate volume for the time of day but not one he can ignore so easily. “Are we okay?”

He stands outside your door while you step in, kicking the pair of worn sneakers off of your feet. Even with the lion’s courage in your words, you’re afraid to face the response, so you keep your gaze at his feet.

“What do you mean?” he asks, after a second. His voice is taut, the placement of his words careful as if in fear of tripping up.

You nudge the door open even further with your knee and the small slice of moonlight widens to drench the entire foyer in its lustre.

“I mean,” you grip the handles of the bag even tighter. “I mean, you’ve been avoiding me. Ever since we— ever since we slept together.”

He lets out a short breath and for a second you think he might just turn around and walk away. Like he might leave you standing in the night alone.

“I—I don’t know,” he confesses, his feet planted on your doorstep.

“Can you come inside so we can talk about it?” you push, finally working up the resolve to look your best friend in the face.

He glances at your hand on the door.

“Yeah, I guess we should,” he says finally and the weight on your shoulders seems to lessen.

And so, like the hundreds of times in the years before, he steps through the front door and slides his shoes off, placing them in the corner next to yours. You pad over to the living room, not even needing the light to find your way but you flick on the lamp at the end of the hall anyway.

Your convenience store loot is left on the kitchen counter and you return with two glasses of water, setting them down on the lacquered coffee table in front of the couch. Iwaizumi is sitting on the end of the loveseat and without thinking, you plop down next to him, folding your legs underneath you.

“So,” you begin, shoulder brushing against his.

“So.”

“Did you have a problem with what we did?” you wonder aloud. “Was I _that_ bad?”

His eyes are fixed on the tacky cat-shaped clock across the room. “That’s ridiculous,” he snorts. “You _know_ you weren’t bad.”

You raise a brow. “Really? Because I’ve definitely had sex so bad that I just ended up ghosting them after.”

“I wasn’t _ghosting_ you,” he argues. “I…I didn’t know what to _say_ to you. After all that, I just—”

“The others are fine with it,” you shoot back. “ _They_ haven’t stopped texting me. _They_ didn’t ignore my boba run requests. _They_ didn’t ignore my calls when my roommate literally set fire to my Hello Kitty rice cooker— _my_ Hello Kitty rice cooker— and then she _refused_ to replace it! That fucking—”

“Okay, yeah,” he breaks through. “I’ve been a really bad friend. But, the truth is that I just _can’t_ stop thinking about it. Like just talking to you, seeing your name on my phone…it’s kind of fuckin’ creepy, huh?”

He lets out a short, insincere laugh but you’re too lost in his words to acknowledge it.

You wet your lips.

“It’s…it’s fine,” you say quietly, letting the sound of your own pulse nearly drown out your words.

“No, it’s _not_ ,” he insists, knuckles blanching as his fingers curl into fists. “It’s _weird_. I feel like— I feel like it’s just _wrong_ of me to think of you that way so often. You’re supposed to be my _best friend_ and all I can think about is—” He stops himself before he can finish the sentence.

Your cheeks are burning now.

“All you can think about is…?” you press, your fingers laced tightly together like you might fall apart otherwise.

Even in the dim light of the room, you can see the way his face goes red, the flush blooming ardently from the neckline of his hoodie.

“It’s inappropriate,” he says simply. “And that’s on me. I’m sorry.”

You sigh, eyeing the glasses of water untouched.

“Let’s get your jacket.”

-

If there’s one word to describe the feeling in your stomach, it’s _wanting_. A deep, hormone-riddled yearning brought on by the nature of Iwaizumi’s confession. Your thoughts drift back to that night; the way he’d felt pressed up against you, warm breath against the back of your neck. The way he’d held you up by your throat. The way he’d felt inside of you.

Your toes curl against the wooden flooring of your room.

Behind you, the hinges of your door creak as Iwaizumi hovers near the entrance, looking apprehensive at the thought of coming any closer.

Your fingers twist into the soft polyester of the jacket, tugging it off of the back of your desk chair. Even now, his scent lingers in the fabric and you feel the inexplicable urge to hold onto it.

“Hajime,” you say softly, beckoning him forward. Nervousness crackles within you like a live wire.

He takes the few short steps towards you but is unable to meet your eye.

“Can I be honest with you?” you ask, tilting your head. There’s something out of place about the hesitance in the air, hanging like a dark curtain in the middle of your childhood bedroom.

“I— yeah,” he says, shoulders tensing slightly as your fingers find his wrist.

“I’m not upset that you think that of me that way,” you start slowly, your eyes meeting his. “Because I think about it too.”

He shivers.

“I—I think about it a lot,” you admit.

“Sometimes when I’m back, I—” your gaze drops to the bundle of fabric in your hands, “—I wear your jacket and I touch myself. I play with myself and I pretend it’s you.” You can’t believe the words as they leave your lips. You hold your breath as they hang in the air, unable to be taken back.

He shakes off your hand and a pang of anxiety overcomes you.

“Are you teasing me?” he says, voice sharp.

Your eyes flash to his.

“No,” you protest quickly. “I—I mean it. I know it’s _bad_ but sometimes I just can’t help it, I—I just really want it sometimes. I really want _you_ sometimes.”

He regards you for a second before eyeing the jacket in your arms.

“Show me,” he says and you blink, the words not fully setting in.

“What?”

“Show me,” he says, his tone more commanding this time. “I want to see the way you get off when you think of me.”

There’s a fluttering in your ribcage now, a mixture of relief and excitement that causes you to smile in spite of yourself.

“Okay,” you say, fingers shaking as you reach for the hem of your own sweatshirt. Letting it drop to the floor, you begin to unfurl his jacket but he cuts you off.

“Take everything off,” he orders, motioning towards your bra and you oblige, unhooking and tossing the garment onto your bed. You shiver as you slip the jacket onto your shoulders, feeling the cool metal zipper rub against your nipples. The sleeves fall past your wrists as you untie the fastenings of your sweatpants and your skin prickles as Iwaizumi watches you step out of them, leaving you only in your pale pink panties (and his jacket, of course).

The tension is almost palpable as you lower yourself onto your bed, sitting with your feet on the edge and your knees together as you begin to tug at your underwear. The cool air meets the crook of your thigh and you shiver as you slide the thin material over your knees, letting it dangle on one calf.

Your hand shakes as you slip it down between your thighs, running your forefinger lightly over your slit. To your surprise, you’re soaked already, the arousal gathering on your fingertip with just a touch.

“Spread your legs,” his tone is firm as he settles at the edge of your bed. You eye his hand as it moves down to rest over the bulge in his own sweatpants and you obey, moving your feet apart so that he can see you completely.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he mumbles, watching as you tease your own entrance slowly, dipping a finger inside before pulling it back out completely. You shudder as you move your slick-coated finger up to brush against your clit, the warmth only intensifying the pleasure of the light action.

Your hips begin to twitch erratically as you rub tight circles around the sensitive bud, feeling it harden against your touch. Flickers of arousal ignite in the pit of your stomach and you bite your lip as your breath starts to come out in shaky pants.

The slick noises of your cunt grow more and more pronounced as you continue to play with yourself and you clap a hand over your mouth as you let out a stuttering moan. The soft material of the cuff presses against your nose and you breathe in a lungful of Iwaizumi’s scent; a familiar mix of his deodorant and something else. Something you’ve only ever smelt on his skin before. And like every self-indulgent time you’d done this before, it sends a strong wave of pleasure directly to the heat between your legs.

You whine, fingers working faster as you take another breath. You’re only slightly concerned that this is maybe too much; that maybe Iwaizumi would find this more creepy than sexy, but God if it doesn’t feel _fucking_ good.

Your legs are shaking now, muscles twitching as you begin to bite at the edge of his sleeve. Not hard enough to tear the material but enough that it muffles your moans as your hips move up to rock against your hand.

A hand comes to rest on your calf, the skin burning against yours. The bed dips and you look down to see Iwaizumi kneeling before you, his knee wedged between your legs.

“Hajime, I—” you breathe as he brings his face down towards yours.

His touch moves up to your thigh, his calloused palms brushing sparks up the sensitive skin.

“I didn’t know you were so fucking _needy_ ,” he says, his breath washing across your cheeks as he leans over you. You whimper and the grip on your thigh tightens, causing you to squirm underneath him.

“Look at you,” he practically spits, fingers wrapping around your wrist. “Using my clothes to get off.”

You make a small noise of protest as he holds your hand in place, his strength clearly outmatching yours. You glance at his forearms and the way the muscle beneath them ripples as you struggle against his hold again.

“ _Please_ ,” you whisper, eyes locking with his. “ _Please let me cum_ ,” you beg, back arching off the soft bedding. “I _need_ it.”

“Oh?” his hand runs down the length of his jacket, pressing against the curve of your breast before settling above your stomach. “But haven’t you had enough? Haven’t you cum enough with _this_ ,” he gives the light fabric a yank and you squeal as he exposes the right side of your body.

You shake your head. “ _Just one more_ ,” you beg, twisting the heel of your palm but his grip on your arm remains firm.

He lowers himself, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Wouldn’t you rather have the real thing?”

The throb between your legs intensifies with just this and you let your hand go slack.

“Please,” you say, swiping your tongue across your lip. “ _Fuck_ , please, Hajime. I want it so _bad_.”

He laughs, dark and low. “Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he says. “You should see the way you were touching yourself in front of me. So _shameless_. You let all of us fuck you and you _still_ want more?”

You nod, mind hazy as he begins to push apart your thighs even further.

“Can’t stop thinking about it,” you gasp as you feel his hand hover close to your heat. He’s watching you now, eyes tracing the glistening folds of your cunt as his thumb settles in the hollow between your pelvis and thigh.

“What do you think about?” he asks, short nails digging into your flushed skin.

You gasp at the small burst of pain. “I—I think about the way your cock felt,” you breathe. “And the way your hands were around—around my neck.”

His other hand comes up to rest at your collar, fingers curling around the curve of your throat.

“Like this?” he asks and you nod shakily, swallowing to feel the firm press of his hand against your windpipe.

“God, you’re so fucking _filthy_ ,” he muses as he tightens his grip. A finger moves to swipe through your folds and you cry out as it brushes against your clit. Without warning, he pushes two digits inside of you with a lewd squelching noise that causes you to grab at his forearm.

He curls his fingers experimentally, shifting until he manages to brush against the tight bundle of nerves within you. You mewl, nails digging into the arm holding you down by your throat but he’s relentless. As soon as he notices the way your hips snap towards him, he repeats the action, sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. Any cry you can produce is stifled the firm grip around your neck now, the pressure restraining the movement of your vocal cords.

“Look how _soaked_ you are,” he marvels, pulling out of you to hold the digits in front of your face. Even in the poor lighting of your room, you can see the way the skin glistens from every angle, coated in a layer of your arousal.

“ _P-please—_ ” you choke out, the pressure building near your temples as his hold restricts the blood flow from your head. Your mind swims with the sensation, lending you incapable of forming a coherent sentence.

Mercifully, Iwaizumi seems to read your mind, and begins yanking down the waistband of his own sweatpants.

Something presses against the back of your thigh, half-rigid and leaking at the tip. You wriggle your hips, causing the head to smear a jagged line of pre-cum across your skin. It comes to rest in the divot of your pelvis, so achingly close to where you need him the most and you almost whine at the weight of it against you.

“So impatient,” he chides as you grip the cuffs of his jacket, your nails digging into the fibres with a desperation unfelt before.

His hold on your throat loosens and you take your first, uninhibited breath in a while. But whatever clarity the sudden rush of oxygen brings is dashed away by the light press of his cock against your cunt; the head slipping up and down between the slick folds. You don’t think you’ve ever felt such raw desire before, your walls clenching as he continues to slide the length along your slit in calculated, teasing motions.

“You look so good like this,” he mumbles, eyeing you as twitch and shudder under his ministrations. “Just like that night. Can’t believe I got to fuck that pretty little pussy first.”

The ridge of his cock runs over the hard bud of your clit and you bite your lip. It’s almost unbearable now, but as much as you try and shift your hips to get him closer to your entrance, he manages to pull away at the last second.

“You have no idea how good it felt to stretch you out like that,” he continues. “To have you so _desperate_ for my cock that I had to fuck you twice just so you could get your fill.”

“ _Pleasepleaseplease_ ,” you cry as the tip brushes over your entrance once again, moving upward to circle your clit. “Hajime, _please_.”

He clicks his tongue. “And now look at you,” he says, tone gravelly. “Begging for it. You’re so greedy.”

You nod deliriously, spit collecting at the corner of your mouth as you turn your head to bury your cheek in the cotton of your sheets. You’d do anything, _anything_ , for him to just slip his cock inside you. To have him stuff you with it and then fuck you stupid on the very bed you’d watched countless shitty movies on over the years together.

It’s only then that he obliges, allowing the tip to catch at your entrance before slowly pressing the rest of the head in. You grasp at your bedsheets, heart in your throat as you feel him fill you up completely.

The stretch his girth brings is dizzying, so much so that you can’t stop your eyes from rolling back into your head as his hips snap against the back of your thighs with a soft _smack_. A hand grips your calf, lofting it over his shoulder as he drives into you again.

“ _F-fuck_ ,” you gasp, chest heaving as he begins to set a steady pace. Like before, every stroke is measured and deliberate, hitting you just where you need it. It’s not frantic in the least and through the blur of your tears you can see the look of concentration in his eyes. He’s pulling you apart in the best way; slowly and meticulously with every stroke bringing you closer to euphoria.

Already, you find yourself getting lost in the way he’s fucking you, your moans garbled and your mind foggy as each thrust kindles the growing flame of pleasure within you. It’s mind-numbingly good but you can feel the restraint in his motions, the tension in his muscles as he holds back from just grabbing you and pounding into your tight little cunt like you know he can.

“ _Harder_ ,” you plead, your skin growing much too hot under the cover of his jacket. You shift, causing the collar to slide down one shoulder and he drinks the sight in, licking his lips as he watches the soft bounce of your breasts under the thin white fabric.

He shakes his head and you whine in protest, fingers twisting into the worn cotton of his shirt as you wriggle your hips in an attempt to get him deeper.

“ _God_ , you’re so fucking _desperate_ for it,” he sneers all breathy as he brings his arms down to cage you against the bed.

“So desperate to have me ruin that pretty pussy.”

He’s playing you now, dangling the peak of your pleasure just out of your reach— seemingly just because he can. Calloused fingers come up to tweak at your nipple and you gasp, your pussy clenching at the sudden, sharp pinch.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groans, toying with the hardening peak again. “I _felt_ that, baby,” his voice is low and abrasive, stoking the hungry inferno within your stomach. You tighten around him once more, sucking him in as he drives into you with another long, measured stroke.

“Hajime, _please_ ,” you whisper, fixing your gaze on his as he bottoms out. You can see the restraint in his eyes and you think you’ve never wanted to pull something apart so bad in your life.

He pauses, fingers brushing against the sweat-slicked skin of your torso.

“Turn around,” he commands as he pulls out, leaning back to rest on his haunches. You obey hastily, ignoring the slick mess between your thighs as you turn over and get on all fours. Your heart hammers with anticipation as you feel him move behind you, his presence heavy as he leans over your body.

He grabs at something— a pillow at the head of your bed— and shoves it beneath you before forcing you down as well. Your knees knock together as you drop, your stomach hitting the soft cushion as he cages your legs between his thighs.

“I want you all the way down,” he mumbles and you feel the slick skin of his cock rubbing against your ass, now presented so lewdly in front of him. Every breath you take is so loud against your ears now, your temple pressed to the comforter and your hair falling over your face in loose, sweaty strands. You know you look a mess now, but none of it matters. None of it matters when he’s pushing the hem of his jacket up your back and slipping his cock in you again, the new position affording him even deeper access within you.

You feel him brush against the spot that makes you see stars— swimming constellations on the backs of your eyelids. Your legs begin to shake and you cry out, your voice sounding loud, throaty, and incomprehensible to your own ears.

However, it’s quickly drowned out as he slams into you again, allowing the full length of his cock to enter you in one sharp motion. His fingers card through your hair, brushing against the flushed skin of your ears, before twisting into the back of your scalp.

Your moans are cut off as he pulls back on your hair and you gasp, the burning pain only intensifying the sharp shocks of pleasure he’s forcing on you.

“You fucking like this, don’t you?” he hisses as the sound of him driving into you grows wetter. “You like when I’m rough with you.”

It’s more of a statement than a question and he confirms it by forcing you to turn and look at him. However, with your lips coated in your own saliva and the hazy, blissed-out look in your eyes, you only manage to nod twice before crying out again, his cock stimulating something deep within you.

Heat washes across your body as he continues to fuck you, hard and fast now like you wanted him to. Like you _needed_ him to. Every deep rut of his hips was bringing you closer and closer to your undoing and you were desperate for it now. You spread your thighs as much as you can and your mind goes hazy with each harsh slap of his balls against your already-swollen clit.

Your cunt flutters pathetically around his length as he pushes you to the edge and feeling this, he lets out a cracked-sounding laugh.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he rasps, grip tightening on your scalp as he forces your head onto the bedding. You nod, your cheek dragging along the soft pink cotton as you feel the muscles in your legs tighten.

“Cum then,” he encourages, leaning down to breathe the words right next to your ear. “Cum on that fucking cock like a good girl.”

He gives you a few deep thrusts before you finally come apart, your walls clenching down on his length as your vision goes white. You ride out the rest of your orgasm with Iwaizumi still buried deep within you, mumbling praise you can only hear snippets of through the thick haze of your climax.

It isn’t long before you feel him near his own orgasm, his rhythm growing more and more irregular as he continues to thrust into your overstimulated little cunt. Your toes curl as you hear him let out a loose string of curses and then you feel it, hot pulses of liquid against your walls as he finishes mid-stroke. You shudder as he drives into you a couple more times, his balls pulsing as he fucks his cum deep inside you.

“ _Fuck_ , baby,” he mumbles as he pulls out of you and eases the weight on the back of your legs. You turn your head to give him a weak smile, but gently, he turns you over so that your back is on the mattress again.

“Hajime, I—” you begin as he leans over you but the rest of your sentence is cut off as he cups your jaw and presses his lips to yours. You let out a small noise of surprise but you kiss him back anyway, throwing an arm around his neck as you pull him close.

When you finally break apart, you notice how deeply flushed his cheeks are, but whether it’s from the sex or the kiss afterward, you can’t be sure.

“Oh,” he utters, looking (and sounding) a bit dumbfounded.

You push yourself up to a sitting position, feeling just as dazed as he looks.

“Oh,” you repeat.

Your strangely euphoric moment of shock is ruined by the feeling of his fluids and yours leaking out of you and you know you’re going to make a mess of your sheets if you don’t do something soon.

“I have to—” you motion towards the bathroom and he blinks a couple of times before it finally clicks.

“Oh. _Oh_. Yeah, yeah of course,” he says sheepishly as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

“But uh—” you begin, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket. “We should talk about this when I get back.”

“Yeah,” he nods earnestly as you stand up. “Yeah we really should, um. I feel like…I feel like it’s long overdue.”

You’re not sure why, but his words feel like flint, drawing long sparks along the inside of your ribcage with every syllable. It takes you a second, but you manage to swallow down the flame.

Legs still shaking, you take a few steps before stopping to linger at the doorway.

“Oh yeah,” you say and Iwaizumi looks up at you. You pinch at the smooth material of his old volleyball jacket, pulling it up to wrap around you completely.

“I’m keeping this."

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to reach out!  
> [tumblr](http://stelleum.tumblr.com) | [twitter](http://twitter.com/Iunaryear)


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